


Cursed Blades and Kisses

by DemonicGeek



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Cursed Blade, Established Relationship, Hurt and comfort, Knife Wound, M/M, No betas we fall like demons, Stabbing, they're okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-21
Updated: 2019-08-21
Packaged: 2020-09-23 03:10:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20333083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DemonicGeek/pseuds/DemonicGeek
Summary: Aziraphale has a demonic encounter. Crowley has to work through the aftermath.Angst with comfort, you have been warned. All my demonic promises that it ends well.





	Cursed Blades and Kisses

Crowley could tolerate pain. Walking into a church hadn’t been an easy as he’d let on. Visiting hell was rarely a walk in the park. He could still feel the burn of the fire, even if it didn’t leave its mark. Pain was simply a part of life after ever since the Fall, and he accepted it as simply the way things were when you were a demon.

There was one type of pain Crowley could not tolerate.

That was the pain flashing across Aziraphale’s face right now as he ran towards him. That pain was a pain that broke him. It was the pain of the one he loved hurting. And him failing, again.

It wasn’t supposed to be this way. He had a ring in his pocket for hell’s sake. This night was supposed to be perfect. But one little uppity demon who thought he saw an inconsequential angel on earth. Were they letting them up here with no experience whatsoever now?

Crowley was too late to save Aziraphale the initial pain but his hand caught the demon’s hand as the knife came down for what would have been a second, potentially fatal hit. Crowley pushed the arm back far, far from the being he loved. Far from where it could do any more harm. He pushed the wrist back until it snapped and the knife fell to the ground. As soon as they were a step from Aziraphale, Crowley’s other hand went to the lower demon’s chest unleashing a wave of hell fire.

The demon disappeared with a yelp. Danger was gone, but Aziraphale.

“C-Crowley?”

Aziraphale was injured yes, but this wasn’t the first time. There was no reason for that glassy look in his eyes. Crowley’s eyes darted to the knife, and then back to Aziraphale. He made a choice and put his arms gently around the angel.

“Right here, angel. Right here. Let’s sit you down and let me take a look? I’m not the healer you are but…”

“Crowley?”

He looked into Aziraphale’s eyes. They weren’t looking back, they were just looking pained.

“Aziraphale I’m right here, can you hear me?”

Crowley reached one hand up to the angel’s face, gently. Aziraphale’s hand shot up, grasping his. “Crowley.” This time it came out with a confident warmth. Aziraphale couldn’t see or hear him, but he could feel. Crowley felt a slight bit of the panic that was starting to build in his head release, but he could still see the fear and now confusion on Aziraphale’s face.

“Okay, you can’t see me, you can’t hear me. You can feel me?” He ran his thumb gently across Aziraphale’s cheek and the answering attempt at a smile almost helped. Then he realized that Aziraphale’s coat sleeve was slowly growing redder. “Okay, one problem at a time.” Crowley slowly pulled his hand back. He hated to see the look on Aziraphale’s face, but then he saw that face harden.

“I… I don’t know what’s going on but I assume you need to tend to the wound on my arm. Do what you need to. You have my full permission to do what you think is right. I trust you.”

Crowley felt a stab to his chest. He didn’t deserve that trust. Didn’t deserve this angel. This was all his fault, if he hadn’t fallen for Aziraphale he’d be safe right- Crowley stopped that train of thought. He had an angel to take care of, he could wallow later.

Though it felt so horribly wrong, he took a step away from Aziraphale to quickly grab the knife that had fallen to the ground. The blade wasn’t celestial or demonic, nothing that could have done the angel real harm. Then he noticed the writing. Writing in a language he didn’t recognize. Cursed. The blade was fucking cursed. Wonderful.

“Dear, I wonder if maybe you could keep a hand on me? If it’s not too much. I… I don’t know what’s going on. I don’t want anything to happen to you.” Aziraphale’s voice was scared. His arm was red. Crowley was letting a litany of curse words he’d picked up over six centuries roll through his head. Of course the bloody angel was worried about him.

He quickly reached out and grasped Aziraphale’s non-injured hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I’m here, angel. I’ll fix this.” Oh for hell’s sake why was he talking, it wasn’t like the angel could-

“I know you’ll fix this.”

For a second Crowley’s heart skipped a beat and he thought somehow the curse may be letting up.

“I know you Crowley. I know you’re scared. I trust you.”

Crowley’s heart cracked. Then he re-centered. One thing at a time, and first things first, he should probably get them out of the park. He used a miracle to put them back into the bookshop, knowing at least there Aziraphale would feel safe. He saw Aziraphale’s nose twitch for a moment, and then a smile.

“The bookshop, yes. Good. Better home than out in the open.”

Crowley squeezed the hand gently again. Then he looked at the cut on the shoulder he needed to address. He didn’t want to just miracle the wound closed, he didn’t know what the conflicting magic would do. Instead he settled for gently, gently removing Aziraphale’s jacket. He debated removing the rest of his clothes up top, but instead settled for tearing the sleeve, it was ruined anyway.

The wound wasn’t large. Really, it’d look rather innocuous if it wasn’t for the other… problem. Just a problem to be solved. The cut was still oozing, but it wasn’t even deep. It didn’t look discolored or dangerous. Crowley miracle a bowl and clothe and gently cleansed it, then wrapped it in a clean cloth to stop the little bit of bleeding that was left.

Then he debated. He needed to let go of Aziraphale for a moment, to do some research. He could sit next to him on the laptop but… maybe that would have to do.

He gently guided Aziraphale to the couch and pushed lightly. Aziraphale seemed to understand and sat down, trying to smile. “I just wish I could help somehow dear. I’m not sure what’s going on. And it really was such a lovely day.”

Crowley snapped a quick photo of the blade with his phone, then he sat down on the couch with Aziraphale and his phone and laptop. One leg draped casually across the angel, one on the ground. He felt Aziraphale’s hand slowly trace up and down his leg. Aziraphale looked equal parts confused and afraid and Crowley turned back to his phone.

The first thing he did was send a text to Anathema, asking if she could read the blade or offer any assistance. Then he started looking through the internet for cursed blades.

The search was not going well. Humans, after all, weren’t very good at figuring out what cursed blades were. And most of the items were just story references.

He felt his phone vibrate and pulled it up to see a message from Anathema.

“I can read it. Give me some time to research, but I think I’ve got a lead on an answer. In the meantime, keep an eye on him. That curse can spread. I’m not sure what will happen once it’s gone into full effect.”

Spread? Spread where? It was already affecting his sight and his hearing. Oh. Oh no.

“Crowley dear, not to worry you but I don’t think I can quite feel my legs anymore.”

No fucking no. Spread how? What kind of timeline were they on? What the fuck could he do now? Crowley shifted into the angels lap and simply wrapped his arms around him. They both needed the comfort for the moment. He felt Aziraphale bury his head into his hair and his good arm tightened around him. Crowley pulled his glasses off and turned his face to Aziraphale, gently resting their foreheads together.

He was caught off guard when Aziraphale tilted his head up and kissed him. Not a chaste kiss, but something deeper, with a hint of desperation. As if Aziraphale were trying to feel every part of him he could with a single kiss.

After a few moments, Crowley gently pulled back. As enjoyable this was, he needed to get back to work. Maybe one of the books in the back section…

“I’m sorry my dear. I just needed to do that while I still could.” He saw a tear start to roll down Aziraphale’s cheek. “I shouldn’t have said that, I’m sor-“

Crowley’s lips were back on Aziraphale’s before he could finish. One hand coming up to wipe the tear away. And now both sides were kissing desperately. A chant of no’s running through Crowley’s head. No this would not end this way. No he would not let it. This was his angel, and there had to be a way, something to fix it. He felt a sigh as Aziraphale was the one who pulled back this time.

“The bookshelf nearest the kitchen, dear. This has to be a poisoning or cursing of some type. There’s information there. Hurry.”

Crowley saw the angel try to hide the next flash of pain and fear to cross his face, and wondered what Aziraphale was hiding from him. But, he was right. There was no time.

He looked down at his phone as it vibrated again. All it said was “Ancient Egyptian blade. Still looking.”

Crowley slowly pulled himself back and up. He looked at Aziraphale. Aziraphale was staring forward, but he simply said “Go.”

Crowley went.

It took forever for him to look through the books, but he eventually found three likely ones and brought them back to the couch. He couldn’t stand to be away from Aziraphale right now. He took his earlier position again and began flipping through the oldest of the books, looking for something, anything that could help. He texted Anathema an update and told her to let him know if she came across anything else.

Aziraphale just continued to look forward.

Another text buzzed his phone. “Not Egyptian. Kushite blade.”

Crowley cursed about wasted time. He looked up at Aziraphale. He noticed that Aziraphale’s arms were hanging limply at his side. No. No. No. He reached out and took Aziraphale’s hand. There was no response, no answering squeeze. Fuck. And of course the Kushite’s weren’t big on writing, but he grabbed the next book and kept looking. What else could he do?

Half way through he looked up when he heard Aziraphale take a shuddering breath.

“Dear, I… I don’t think I can sit up much longer. I can’t… I can’t feel much.”

Crowley panicked. Then he forced it down, there was too much to do. He jumped to his feet and gently laid Aziraphale down on the couch. He felt him sigh a bit in relief and wondered how long he’d been pretending things were fine to not worry him. He sat down on the ground next to him and now he was flying through pages, but one hand was in Aziraphale’s hair. Right here, angel, right here.

“Crowley, in case… Crowley don’t blame yourself.”

He snorted in disgust. It was already his fault, even if he fixed this.

“Crowley, I love you.”

“Oh no angel, you don’t get to say goodbye like that. Not when I can’t. No. You’re not leaving me, not now” Crowley briefly turned all of his attention to the angel. He framed his face with his hands, and kissed his forehead. He hoped he could feel it. There was a brief answering smile on Aziraphale’s face before the fear came back into his eyes.

Crowley did something Aziraphale would have lectured him about. He threw the old book.

Then he sighed and walked over to pick it up. But looking up at him from the bent open page, was the knife drawn.

Crowley had never read as quickly as he did right that moment. The language was old, but he’d learned Nubian once long ago. And then two words jumped up at him as the cure. And it was so simple he nearly laughed with relief. Demon blood. Demon blood would cure the demonic cut.

He half tumbled, half ran to Aziraphale as he conjured a blade. The angel was blinking rapidly, but the chest was still rising and falling. He tore through his earlier bandage. Then he slid the blade across his palm and pushed it as hard as he could to the wound.

Aziraphale gasped and began to scream, his eyes closed. Crowley realized that adding demon blood to angelic could have its own consequences and pulled his hand back. “Oh no. God no, what have I done? No, no Aziraphale! AZIRAPHALE!”

Aziraphale’s screams stopped as suddenly as they’d started and his eyes popped up and looked, oh God Crowley thought they were looking. He took Aziraphale’s face in his hands. “Aziraphale?”

“Crowley” And this time the smile was genuine, and he was sitting up and his arms were going out and around Crowley and for the first time in the intervening hours, Crowley felt like he could finally breathe fully again.

“Angel” And this time Crowley was the one with tears sliding down his cheeks as he slowly slipped to the floor. Aziraphale came with him, arms wrapped around him. Pulling him close and whispering his name over and over again.

In the end, neither could say if they stayed there for minutes or hours. Time seemed to almost stop as they held each other on the floor of the bookshop.

Eventually, Aziraphale shifted to a sitting position on the floor and pulled Crowley back onto his lap. Aziraphale started the kisses, peppering all over Crowley’s face, his hair, his neck. Any piece of him he could easily reach. At one point Aziraphale grabbed Crowley’s hand and heard a yelp. He pulled up Crowley’s hand and looked at it with a bit of frustration before kissing it as he miracled the wound closed.

Crowley began kissing around Aziraphale’s neck just whispering “angel, angel, angel” over and over. Aziraphale wasn’t sure if it was a prayer, a wish, or simply a hope but the combination made him both moan and run his hands down over Crowley’s body.

“Dear?”

“Mm, angel?”

“What’s in your pocket?”

Crowley looked up, golden eyes so blown that he had almost no whites left. He began to pull his body back.

“Crowley, there’s nothing to be afraid of.”

“Not afraid…”

“Crowley?”

“I had a plan for today…”

“Well, yes, the plans got a bit off course, I’ll give you that.”

“Angel.”

“I mean, we can go back to the original plan if you’d like.”

“Angel, I’m trying to propose to you.”

“Propose what, my dear? You know that I always love your plans and-“

“Marriage, angel. It. It’s a ring in my pocket. I was going to propose to you and…” Crowley trailed off.

This time it was Aziraphale that froze. For an instant, Crowley was reminded of the terrible hours before, but no Aziraphale’s eyes were staring into his. He carefully pulled the ring out of his pocket. Black as his wings, with feathery impressions around it. Crowley held the ring out in a silent offering.

Aziraphale looked from the ring to Crowley’s face and suddenly he smiled and his face seemed to glow. “I would love to, my dear.”

Crowley barely had time to slide the ring onto Aziraphale’s finger before he found them miracled into their own bed, Aziraphale’s arms wrapped around him. He smiled as he kissed Aziraphale again. At least the day ended where he’d hoped it would.

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to the three people who keep tolerating me running around A03 like Newt with a pair of scissors. What's another stabbing among friends?


End file.
